The Loon’s Foot
I thought it was the loon’s foot, I saw beneath the tide,
But no—it was my lover’s shining paddle I espied;
It was my lover’s paddle, as my glance I upward cast,
That dipped so light and gracefully as o’er the lake I passed.
The loon’s foot—the loon’s foot,
’Tis graceful on the sea;
But not so light and joyous as
That paddle blade to me.
My eyes were bent upon the wave, I cast them not aside,
And thought I saw the loon’s foot beneath the silver tide.
But ah! my eyes deceived me—for as my glance I cast,
It was my lover’s paddle blade that dipped so light and fast.
The loon’s foot—the loon’s foot,
’Tis sweet and fair to see,
But oh, my lover’s paddle blade,
Is sweeter far to me.
The lake’s wave—the long wave—the billow big and free,
It wafts me up and down, within my yellow light canoe;
But while I see beneath heaven pictured as I speed,
It is that beauteous paddle blade, that makes it heaven indeed.
The loon’s foot—the loon’s foot,
The bird upon the sea,
Ah! it is not so beauteous
As that paddle blade to me.